Suburbia and Nazareth: Tale of Two Jesus-es
by chelseabsb93
Summary: J.o.S. thought he was the only Jesus there was. Apparently, he was wrong. Summary sucks, but please read the story...and of course review!


**Suburbia and Nazareth: A Tale of Two Jesus-es**

I walk this empty street, on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. As I walked, I saw a strange person standing on the corner. Seriously, who wears a long dress on a hot day like today? That girl is crazy. She turned toward me and I realized _she_ was actually a _he_. A guy with long hair wearing a dress…why are there always creeps on the bus when I need to use it? I really need to get my own car.

I stand at the bus stop on the corner, a good distance away from the dress wearing dude, not wanting him to think it was ok to talk to me. He took a few steps toward me. Before I could avoid the situation, he began to speak.

"Hello my child." The man spoke in an eerie monotone voice.

I spat back at him, hoping my attitude would end the conversation. "I'm not a child. I happen to be 22."

The man smiled. The look he was giving me was creeping me out. Why did we have to be banned from the usual 7-11? Now I have to take the bus to the one across town. And since I have to take the bus, I have to deal with people like this.

"The last time I checked you just turned 19." The man continued. "But to me you will always be a child."

How did he know that? This guy is really starting to freak me out.

"That's not what my ID says." I pulled out the fake ID I made before going to the city.

The man looked at my ID with the same weird smile as before. "This is obviously a fake."

I grabbed the ID back. "What are you, some kind of cop?"

The man snickered a little. Was he mocking me? Or was he really a cop?

"I'm not a police officer. However I do believe in truth and justice prevailing over all else."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "At least I'm not the one wearing a dress."

The man looked down at his clothes. His monochromatic dress matched his almost monotone voice, and the rope belt made him look homeless. Maybe he was.

"My robe was handmade by my mother. It's the only one I have."

Ok, so maybe he was homeless. I was suddenly craving nicotine. Pulling the box of cigarettes from my front shirt pocket, I took one out for myself, sticking it between my lips.

"Want a smoke?" I decided to be nice and ask the homeless looking man, holding a cigarette up to him.

He shook his head. "I believe that our bodies are temples, and should be treated with respect. Don't you?"

"I believe that I'm going to die anyway, so I might as well enjoy life while I'm still here." I lit the cigarette and sucked in its tar and nicotine filled goodness. I exhaled, watching the smoke disappear into thin air and wishing I could do the same. The homeless man in the robe kept staring at me as I smoked. Unlike before, he had a look of disappointment on his face; the same look my mom and Brad give me every minute of my life.

I finished my cigarette just as the bus pulled up. I dropped the butt and rubbed it into the ground with my foot before trudging onto the bus. The homeless man followed. I hoped he wouldn't sit next to me. I couldn't deal with any more of his hippie mumbo-jumbo.

I sat and stared out the window. From the reflection I saw the homeless man had chosen a seat…across from me. Far enough away to give me some space, but close enough to still be creepy. He couldn't have sat a few rows away? What was his obsession with me? This is what I get for talking to the homeless people. The same thing happened in the city. I used to think the city was a pretty cool place to be. After that summer trip though I found out it's just a bigger and crazier version of this piece of shit suburbia.

"Well my prayers have just been answered because Jesus has graced us with his presence." My friend Gerard said as him and our friend Will took their seats near me and the homeless man.

"Sup guys?" I asked.

"Of course my child, I'm always here for my followers." The homeless man spoke again in a monotone voice, this time more pleasant than the last.

All three of us stared at the homeless guy. The looks on my friends' faces explained my thoughts perfectly: confusion and annoyance.

"Hold up!" I almost got whiplash turning to face the old man. "There's only room for one Jesus in this town, and that's me!"

The homeless man continued to smile and replied calmly. "You may be this town's Jesus, but I'm the Jesus of every town and every person around the world who believes in me and my teachings."

I rolled my eyes. This guy was one of _them_.

"Well hey, there's a church down on Cutler Street that'll love to have you."

Gerard decided to jump in. "Yeah, you can hang out with the churchy people and let the real Jesus bless his disciples."

The so-called Jesus spoke again. "What makes you the real Jesus?"

To me, it was the easiest question anyone ever asked me. The words flowed freely, like a sermon being given to my disciples. "I'm the son of rage and love, the Jesus of Suburbia."

"I see." The man nodded as if he was accepting what I had to say. "You may be the son of rage and love, but I'm the son of God, born of the Virgin Mary, making me the Jesus of Nazareth."

"Seriously?" The three of us were skeptical.

"Yes, but that doesn't make me _the_ Jesus. That may be my name but I am who I am because of those who believe in me…my followers and disciples."

Gerard and Will jumped to my defense. "We are the stories and disciples of the Jesus of Suburbia."

The so-called Jesus smiled. "And I'm sure there are plenty more just like yourselves."

The three of us laughed slightly and nodded, knowing there was a congregation of them waiting down at the 7-11 for their Jesus to give his latest sermon.

"Honestly, we'd be lost without our Jesus." Gerard said.

"That's why they call him the leader of the lost and found." Will added, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me a little.

The man smiled and nodded, embracing every word my friends and I had to say. It was nice to finally be listened to by an adult. At least to this adult, our opinions mattered. The bus slowed down as it came up on the bus stop across from Cutler Street, which happened to be the road across from the place we were now forced to call our place.

Jesus, my friends, and I stood up. When the bus stopped, we exited.

Before making his way across the street, Jesus, the homeless weirdo, spoke one final time. "It was very nice to meet another real Jesus. Just keep yourself and your disciples on the right track and you'll be ok with me. And if not, you know I'll always be here for you."

We nodded. I almost hugged the man, but something in me told me it wasn't a good idea.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Jesus continued. It looked like he was giving me a peace sign. "Got a smoke? For the road."

I pulled out my box of cigarettes and handed him one. He reached into the only pocket his robe had and pulled out a lighter. Putting the cigarette between his teeth, he lit it and took a long drag. From the looks of it this wasn't his first cigarette. And with that he made his way across the street and down Cutler, leaving the three of us in disbelief.

"What just happened?" Will asked.

I smiled. "We better hurry up and get to 7-11. I've got a story to tell."

* * *

_**A/N =**_ I've wanted to write this story for a while but I'm not 100% sold on how it came out. Let me know what you guys think. I'm definitely up for changes and opinions.


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